


It's Merely Magic

by Wheynet



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fantasy, High Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Partial Mind Control, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-05-16 18:59:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5837230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wheynet/pseuds/Wheynet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When contract killer Clint Barton trades his freedom to an underworld boss of infamous proportions, he learns that things are never as they seem. The world is far larger and weirder than he could have guessed, but he has a job to do and he'll use every bit of it to his advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A word of warning, mostly for my own peace of mind:  
> I wrote this as a one-shot of wanting them to bang (as usual), and then suddenly backstory and details and shit-where-is-this-thing-going?!  
> And then I wanted to try something new, develop my skills- so I wrote in objective observer point of view. It's a lot of action doing and no internal thoughts or feelings. Makes the story strange to read maybe, the sex a little impersonal, but it's like a movie camera I point around. So... more at the end once you've read it.
> 
> Also, this used to be one stand-alone chapter. Then things happened and now I'm continuing it, because it should be fun. The title used to be "Just About Every Night", if you remember, but the continuation of the story forced me to change it. Sorry about that.

It was easier to take a booth in the back corner, hidden away and yet not, because everyone looks for the secluded corner to cozy up in. The lighting is dim enough, glowing softly in warm red and gold, enough to drink by. The focus wasn't for anything but the stage anyway, lit darkly somehow. Frank shadows and vibrant color illuminating the band as they played on. It was slow stuff, gentle and nodding with the tickling of the ivory and deep plucks of catgut. Old school jazz style. The establishment was themed for that kind of time and feeling, and the patrons had no qualms with it- high society and big money. The ladies in high-slit evening gowns and tight updo's had that frigid air about them even as they smiled. Sharks. They sipped martinis and held in their grimace.

The man in the booth in the corner snorted at them for it and gave a lady a teasing smirk. She played like she hadn't been eyeing him in his tight T-shirt, wishing she could see the rest of him under the table. His eyes went back to the stage again, the pianist starting a more jaunty tune, still keeping it calm. He took the last sip of his whisky and the ice clicked against the glass softly as he set it back on the table. As a waiter passed he noted the empty and put a refill on his mental list of drinks to get as he went to the bar. Fresh drinks without asking- that was the standard here. He had seen the waiter glance at the glass and followed him with his eyes to the bar and then lost interest, looking over the patrons again. Tonight might be a bust, and he'd have to come back tomorrow if the target didn't show up. It could get expensive. Booze here wasn't cheap.

He huffed slowly and leaned back in the cushioned seating, one arm on the table tapping gently. When the waiter appeared with his new whisky, swiping the empty glass away, he thanked him distractedly, glancing away from the band. His focus was drawn over the waiter's shoulder as he walked away when a new patron entered the club and sat at the bar. His eyes narrowed in on him, watching with interest. The new patron was tall and lean, trim and neat in everything from tailored suit jacket and slacks to his slicked back hair. The bartender was before him instantly, nodding once at his quiet choice of drink and turning around to fix it up. He seemed to sigh as he slid off his jacket and folded it carefully over the seat of the stool beside him, folding his fingers together and closing his eyes, lips pressed against his hands in wait. Watching him intently from the seclusion of the booth, the blond took in the man's quiet and soft demeanor just from the simple gestures he'd made so far, and he waited for more.

At the bar, the man opened his eyes to the drink set before him and he murmured a thanks to the bartender as he reached for it, blinking slowly and taking a sip. He stared over the bar blankly at the rows of bottles, glass held up halfway in a forgotten intent to drink again. He looked tired, almost melancholy, losing his straight stature to bow his back, resting his arms on the bar top. The piano continued to tinkle softly and the people at their candlelit tables chattered quietly, glasses clinking and soft laughter. When he seemed to come back to reality, he blinked a few times and finished that sip he had meant to take.

The man spying on him got out of the booth slowly, remembering to drag his leather coat with him, and he took his glass by the rim, sliding it up off the table as he wandered to the bar. He stood behind a stool beside the other man, watching his back for a moment before looking up at the mirrored backsplash, bottles of colored alcohol lined up against it, and he met his eyes in it.

"Mind if I sit next to you?"

The man shook his head and looked away, down into his glass and rubbed his thumb along the rim. The blond took the seat and rested his arms on the bar similarly to the others, tilting his head towards him but not looking directly. It tended to be safer that way- the man was already giving off the air of not wanting to be bothered.

He took a sip of his whisky. "Want to vent your woes to a stranger?"

The man snorted humorously and still looked down into his drink. "Why would I do that?" he muttered.

"I don't know you from Adam- who am I going to tell?"

He hummed sagely. "And you believe I have woes to tell."

the blond sighed, tilting his drink side to side and the ice inside clicked back and forth. "Well, you don't look too happy."

"Happiness is fleeting," the other man murmured. "And I tire of chasing it."

"See? That right there tells me you're having a bad day. Tell me about it- What's your name?"

He slanted his eyes at the blond curiously, taking in his physique slowly. "Loki."

"I'm Clint."

"You're a whore, aren't you?" Loki asked blankly, and Clint sputtered his laughter in his whisky.

"No," he denied with a smile, shaking his head at the pointblank question. "But I guess if you want me to be…"

"I'm not looking for a fuck." The curse was almost startling coming out of Loki's mouth, but he seemed to call things as he saw them, harsh words and all.

"That's not what I'm offering. Though you look like you could do with a long slow screw."

The corner of Loki's mouth perked up in a small smirk. "What were you offering again?"

"A listening ear."

"Yes…" He swiveled his stool and faced Clint, who turned to him as well, smiling in a challenging fashion, expectant. Loki rested his chin on his fist again, looking Clint up and down for another moment. "I kill people for a living."

Clint looked unimpressed, but he waited a moment before speaking. "Okay?"

"You don't believe me." Loki didn't seem offended, just stating facts he observed.

"Well now I'm waiting for you to tell me how this has made you so sad today. Are you regretting it?"

"Killing?" Loki asked in confirmation and Clint nodded as he sipped his drink again. "No not at all. It's one of the things I do best- no it's my family. They are… stressful."

"I feel like you're putting it nicely."

"I am."

"Yep, families suck. What'd they do? Why so 'stressed'?" Clint enunciated, waving his knee gently back and forth with his boot heel caught on the stool rung.

Loki sighed and shook his head, looking over his shoulder at the band now as the bassist began a long solo. He neglected to answer the question, but Clint didn't press, watching Loki's features with a barely-there smile. When he stopped the movement of his knee, resting it against Loki's between the barstools, Loki bored his green eyes right into Clint's, not acknowledging the touch with any gesture.

"This doesn't seem like your kind of haunt," Loki noted. "Jazz bars and high-rollers trying to be snobbish royalty."

Clint tilted his head in acuquiecense, looking over the patrons at their dark tables with their martini glasses and crystal tumblers; the bassist and pianist still shadowed heavily and lit in purple light.

"You're right, but I do like sax. I thought they would have one here. Maybe just not tonight. Where do you think I belong?" Clint's tone was easy, friendly, just having a conversation. He looked back at Loki and gave him a near smirk that was his smile.

Loki mused in his head, humored. "A dive bar. Playing pool, gambling. Drinking beer-" and he surmised and signaled Clint's whisky glass, "-not hard liquor."

"Can't get Dalmore at a dive bar."

Loki stared into him again, the smallest twitch of his lips indicating a fond smile. "Indeed." He turned back to the bar fully and drank down the last of his brandy, flicking up a finger to the glance of the bartender in a signal for another. "What do you do?"

"Something pretty similar to you, actually."

"Really?" Loki looked him up and down again and Clint smiled into his glass as he did it.

"Contract killer."

Loki's gaze turned icy and pulled his freshly refilled glass to him, tapping the side pensively. "Then you already know who I am."

Clint shrugged. "I didn't want to weird you out and call you by name right off the bat."

"Is this how you greet all your targets? I won't hesitate to kill you here you know."

"You're not a target."

Loki watched Clint through the mirror across the bar and Clint watched him in turn.

"Seriously, I'm not here to kill you," he reiterated and then laughed. "I'd be stupid to try- I've seen what you can do."

"Then what are you here for?"

Clint took a deep breath and cleared his throat, rolling the bottom edge of his tumbler against the dark bar top sheepishly. He looked down into the whisky that swirled and crashed over the ice. "I'm looking for protection," he said lowly.

Loki still watched him in the mirror, eyebrows drawn together in judging interest. Clint didn't look up at him, still staring down at the imperfections in the black stone of the bar as he brought his glass to his lips.

"I know your family isn't that much into doing that unless you've done something for them, but I've been getting some attention from the wrong sort of people- I need backing."

Loki hummed curtly and slid a hand into the coat on the stool beside him, searching and coming out with a pack of Insignia cigarettes. He pulled one out of the package and flipped it shut, tossing it on the bar as he dug in his pocket for a lighter. The bartender glanced at him when he heard the grating click of the lighter, but didn't move to say anything about it. As Loki took a drag and pulled it away from his mouth, Clint watched him when the smoke billowed out and disappeared up into the air above them.

"What sort of wrong people?" Loki asked.

"The big hitters- Shield and them."

Loki hummed again and took another drag, reaching down for his brandy in the same hand that held his cigarette.

"I know the family is about business," Clint rasped as he tried to explain himself quickly. "And I could pay you for protection, but I'm pretty sure my money wouldn't mean much to you. I could owe you though. You watch my back, I'll watch yours- whatever you want to call it."

Loki turned to Clint again, cigarette dangling between his thin fingers, but as he went to speak, he stopped and watched the stage again, watching a woman come to stand behind a microphone, band of piano, drums, bass and saxophone around her now. She began to sing, breathy and gentle, seductive, and both Clint and Loki watched her for a moment, enjoying the change of pace in the music. The patrons in the club watched her in awe, wide admiring eyes at her sparkling black dress, blonde and blue hair curling over her shoulder.

"So you are offering your services to us," Loki said as they continued to watch the singer.

"If you could use me- I'm good for other things besides killing."

Loki's eye flickered over Clint's muscled frame again and he took another pull of his smoke. "I'm sure you are."

He sighed and turned back to the bar, downing the rest of his drink and tucking the cigarette in his mouth as he sifted through his coat again, coming out with his wallet. "Let's discuss this in a more private setting. If you have time." He pulled out a large bill and set it on the bar, moving his glass to sit atop it.

Clint hopped off the stool and slipped his jacket on. "Of course," he chirped and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

Loki held him off with an upheld hand, pulling Clint's glass over to his and tapping the bar top to attract the bartenders attention. He saw it and nodded, coming over but not speaking to them. Loki pulled his suit jacket on and stowed his wallet again, fastening the middle button before tugging gently on the hem. He turned and gestured Clint to follow him, and he did, loping behind him in his leather jacket out of the club.

The night was cool and fresh, humming with the sounds of traffic and people still wandering the sidewalks. Loki stopped at the edge of the concrete, cell phone out and tapping out a message as he smoked still. Clint stepped up beside him, hands in his jacket pockets. He looked up at the towering buildings lit in little cubes of offices and apartments and then around him at the people, taking in his environment calmly. Loki had put his phone away and waited beside Clint silently, his own eyes glancing at every face that wandered across the busy street.

As a car pulled up to the edge of the sidewalk, Clint took one step back and Loki didn't move. He flicked the butt of his cigarette into the street and reached for the handle of the back door, opening it and motioning Clint inside. Clint shuffled in and slid to the far end, letting Loki fall in behind him and shut the door, closing out the din of the street and the bright lights of the businesses. The interior was sleek and clean, dark and polished like any well-taken care of town car. The driver pulled out into the road once the door was closed, not looking back at his passengers.

"Where to, Sir?"

Loki sighed quietly and settled into the soft seats, staring out the tinted windows at the lights zooming by. "Home, James."

Clint asked no questions as they were driven through the city, watching the world pass. The radio played quietly, some slow song with a soft woman's voice and a guitar, and nobody made a move to turn it up or off. Clint would look over at Loki every now and then, taking in his crossed legs and leaned back, resting his chin on his fist again as he gazed out at nothing.

"Were you waiting for me tonight?" Loki asked quietly, not looking away from the window.

Clint bobbed his head slow. "Yep. There's no one else that can give me the kind of backup I need."

"How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough to know you only go to that bar if you're alone."

Loki nodded sagely and let the subject drop.

In a few minutes the car pulled up along the sidewalk again, and the doorman of the building they came up to hurried to get the door for Loki, greeting him formally by name and waiting for Loki to get out. Loki greeted him in turn, less enthused than the doorman, and he stood aside, smoothing the front of his suit as Clint crawled out of the back seat. Clint jerked his chin up in hello to the man as the door was swung shut. The doorman looked suspicious of him, but bowed his head just the same and let Loki and Clint walk up to the glass double doors of the building where another doorman awaited them.

It wasn't too late at night, but the lobby of the building was empty of people except the concierge behind the counter. He greeted Loki in the same fashion as the doormen and watched them go to the elevators. Loki let Clint enter the elevator first and came in behind him, tapping a button for a floor close to the top of the building. He leaned back against the handrails as the elevator glided up and Clint crossed his arms, watching the numbers on the display rise calmly.

"What are you not willing to do," Loki began gently, watching Clint with ease. "If we were to employ your services?"

Clint took a moment, looking away from the display and to the carpeted floor. Dark red and gold. "I don't kill kids," he decided. "And there are limits to what I'll do for torture. No dark and disgusting crap- I don't pull out fingernails."

Loki nodded and the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to let them out. Loki led the way down the hall, only three doors on the entire floor, and he went to the last, unlocking it with his own key and going in. He let Clint come in behind him as he rifled through his coat and dropped his wallet, cigarettes, and keys on the entry table and then walked away in to the apartment, heels of his shoes clicking on the white marble. Clint left his coat on as he followed slowly, scanning the area with it's tall windows and white furniture, bright wood accents and tables, white vases and vibrant green succulent plants growing out of them. Near the far wall past the living room sat a glass and wood desk, clean and organized just like the rest of the place, and a large, dark painting of a white plant, glowing at the tips of its petals like deep sea creatures behind it. Far to the left up a few steps was a large curved room with a giant bed decked out in furs.

Loki pulled off his jacket and draped it over the back of the desk chair before settling in it, letting Clint check out his things from afar and lean against the arm of the sofa, hands in his coat pockets.

"Nice place. I never get to see the inside- how do you do that?"

"Tony Stark has gifted me with some of his technology. The windows tint black if I want them to, and are mirrored on the outside. I value my privacy in the face of underworld celebrity."

"Yeah I bet. But it's not hard to find out that you live here."

Loki leaned back in his chair, watching Clint cooly now that he was in his own space. "Privacy when I want it is what I need; being a recluse only draws suspicions. I prefer to hide in plain sight."

"Because nobody sees it coming."

"Exactly. Well-" Loki opened a drawer in the desk and came out with a few sheets of paper and a pen. "Let's say we keep you under our wings- how long would you need our protection?"

Clint sighed and scratched his head as he lurched off the sofa arm, coming up to the front of the desk and looking down at the papers Loki scanned through. "I don't know. Is it possible to be hired indefinitely?"

"Of course." Loki flipped a few pages and pulled his carved wooden pen over the words as he read, making a few ticks and notes. "I've noted down your objections; can you think of any others?"

"Not at the moment."

"Then I have a few questions for you before this is finished."

"Alright."

Loki leaned back again and folded his hands in his lap, watching Clint carefully before he began his queries. "Do you or have you ever believed in gods- the mythological sort like Zeus and Yahweh and-"

"-Loki?"

He smirked, showing a hint of teeth. "Yes."

Clint stared blankly for a second. "I feel like I should be saying yes."

"I need your honesty may lie to anyone and everyone but for me. This contract-" Loki set his hand on the papers gently, "-will put you on our payroll- my family's payroll and protection- but you will work under me alone. I will give you the orders even if they come from the Head. We will have an understanding between us."

"So we'll be a team? Sort of?"

"Yes. So. What is your answer?"

"I've never believed in any of that stuff."

"No faeries, no aliens?"

"No."

"Magic?"

Clint furrowed his brows at Loki, and he hunkered down on his haunches, resting his arms on top of the desk. "What are we talking about here, Loki? Faeries and gods and stuff."

"It's basic protocol for possible employees. We prefer that you have no preconceptions about the occult before coming into our service. It's very difficult to deal with fundamentalist Christians when they figure out what we really do."

"What do you _really_ do then?"

Loki smiled and sat up to the desk again, readying his pen. "You'll find out if you agree to the contract. Would you like to look it over?"

Clint stood up and swiped the papers off the desk, going over to the sofa and sitting as he read slowly. Loki watched for a moment before getting up and joining him, sitting on the other square of cushion and crossing his legs. He brought the pen with him, twirling it between his fingers as he looked out at the surrounding buildings through his windows absently. When he flattened his palm the pen began to float above his hand, steady as if an invisible hand were holding it over Loki's palm. Loki looked down at it and caught it between his fingers gently as Clint held up one paper close and read it again.

"'I agree to the resurrection of my soul into my body (after necessary healing processes) if permissible by Hela's rule'? What the hell am I reading?"

"Are you beginning to understand why I asked you those questions?"

Clint looked at Loki, confused as he let the papers sit in his lap. "Is this real? You're talking about…" His furrowed eyebrows released as he eyed the pen floating in Loki's hand again, watching it lift higher and spin lazily. Loki watched Clint's expression stonily as Clint processed what he was seeing.

"What- what is this?" he whispered in awe.

"What do you think it is?"

"Gimme a straight answer, Loki. You said we wouldn't lie to each other if we were gonna do this."

The pen dropped in Loki's awaiting palm suddenly and he held it out to Clint. "It is simple magic, Clint. You will learn some as you progress in your service to me, and see so much more than mere levitation. Can you live a life amongst humans again and keep these secrets even as you stare a Sasquatch in the face in the center of Pikes Place Market in Seattle? Can you chase down werewolves and work in tandem with hulders without attracting the attention of forest marshals? If you can't, then I cannot protect you."

Clint scoffed in bewilderment and took the pen. "This is crazy," he whispered and chuckled as he found the lines on which to sign his name.

"The world is crazy." Loki sighed as he got up and stood waiting for Clint to finish, taking the papers from him and glancing through for all the signatures in their right places.

Clint stood as well, peeking over the papers almost nervously as Loki sifted through them. When Loki looked up, Clint met his eye calmly.

"Well?"

Loki sighed and held up a hand, palm open to receive a small dagger that materialized out of thin air. "There is one more thing to complete your contract."

Clint was straight faced as he glanced between Loki and the dagger in his grasp. "It's blood isn't it? We've gone this far talking about magic and shit- it's gotta be a blood contract."

"See- you're getting smarter by the second," Loki purred and smiled. "I may draw your blood from anywhere- it doesn't have to be your hand if you don't wish it."

"Finger's fine. How much do you need?" Clint held out his hand to Loki and grunted behind pursed lips as Loki went for it immediately and sliced open the pad of a finger.

"One drop."

And he wrapped his fingers around Clint's and squeezed, forcing the blood to bead up out of the wound and drip onto the papers. Loki released him and sighed happily, flicking the dagger in his hand to make it disappear as suddenly as it had shown up, and the papers along with it.

Clint sucked on the tip of his finger for a second before wiping it on his jeans and wincing and the scrape of the cut on the fabric. "That it?"

"Not quite," Loki said and drew up his hand again, fingers swirling for a second and catching an amulet that appeared. He held it up between them. "The contract is complete- you work for us now; for me. But this is a tool through which you may contact me."

The amulet was dark gold, a translucent stone almost a foggy blue color held in place by twining filigree and vines. As Loki held it up for Clint to inspect, the stone began to glow bright blue.

"We will be in touch at all times when you wear this, and you are not to take it off while you are under contract. You may wear it however you wish- it doesn't have to be on a chain. For instance- you wear rings in your ears: I can make this smaller to fit there as well."

Clint nodded and watched Loki magically force the amulet to change, shrinking in size to a pebble and the gold metal elongating and curving to form a ring with the stone as the closure. "Yeah, alright, earring is fine. What's, uh... This is the Tesseract thing in the contract, right?"

Loki hummed in confirmation as he reached up to hook the amulet into Clint's ear after removing the previous stud. As the stone was fit into place, closing the ring, Clint stiffened, inhaling sharply and looking strained as electric blue light filled his veins and slithered up into his eyes, filling his irises with the same opal blue light of the stone. Clint's clenching jaw released as the color evaporated in the next moment and he slowly slid down onto his knees, hands going up to Loki's thighs and gripping gently as he shakily exhaled.

"What- Oh shit, what's happening?"

Loki looked down at the top of Clint's blond head calmly, letting a hand rest there reassuringly while Clint got his breathing under control. "You work for me alone. This piece of the Tesseract you hold binds you to me under this pretense. You are still your own person, but I have final say over what you do." He scratched his fingers through Clint's hair gently and Clint seemed to calm, letting his hands fall off Loki's legs and wait with one fist on the marble floor. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, Sir," Clint sighed, staring down at Loki's shoes. "Is this, like... Mind control? I'm not really sure how I feel about it."

"It is to a certain extent. When your heart feels overly strong about something though, I won't be able to override it."

Clint exhaled slowly through his nose and nodded. "Okay. Now what? Is there more?"

Loki's hand fell away from Clint's head. "No, but seeing you at my feet is quite... Stirring."

Clint slowly looked up and then he snickered, hands sliding along Loki's thighs as he shook his head with a smile. "Is fraternizing with subordinates kosher with the Family?"

"Well it's my contract, isn't it? I could have written you in as my slave if I thought you would accept, but you are too strong for that." He cupped his hand under Clint's chin to raise his face up. "Are you willing to submit to this then?"

"I thought you didn't wanna fuck."

"I don't. You said something about how I looked like I need-"

"A long, slow screw?" Clint chuckled. "I can do that."

"Get up," Loki murmured and Clint obeyed. "Undress."

Clint stared Loki in the eyes as he shrugged off his leather jacket, tossing it behind him on the sofa before peeling his shirt up and over his head. He let the shirt drop to the floor and watched Loki's eyes lower slowly down his shoulders and chest, down his abdomen to the top of his jeans and back up. Clint down onto one knee again, unzipping his boots and toeing them off before getting up once more, using Loki's legs as his hand holds, and then he pulled open his jeans. He didn't push them off right away, hooking a thumb into the open V of his fly and sliding his fingers into the edge of his briefs, giving himself a teasing rub and watching Loki's eyes tighten as he glanced down at the movement.

"You want more of this?" Clint asked calmly. "Do it yourself."

Loki said nothing, taking a second to look him over before touching the pads of his long fingers to Clint's belly, sliding them to hook into his jeans and briefs and push them down over his hips, down his thighs until they fell on their own. He never looked at the rest of him, staring just as hard at Clint as though he were judging his character solely through his eyes.

Clint smirked and kicked off his clothes, down to nothing but his glowing earring. He leaned up to Loki, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck, and pulled them to kiss, lips pressing firmly until Loki moved into him. Clint stepped back when Loki's fingers began to trail down his sides and he turned away to walk past the couch, up the steps to the bed. He smiled to himself as he walked away, and Loki watched him silently.

"Your turn, Boss," Clint teased and pulled back the fur covers, sliding into the bed and waiting, watching.

Loki snorted gently and started slowly through the room to the bed, waving a hand to the windows to darken. One of Clint's hands disappeared under the covers, stroking himself at the sight of Loki coming closer, and when Loki's clothes shimmered away, leaving him bare as he stood by the bed, Clint scoffed.

"Well that's not fair."

Loki hummed low in his throat as he slid between the sheets beside him, one hand slipping down over Clint's to take over the movements. Clint sighed happily through his nose and reached to drag Loki into a kiss, pulling him down against his chest and rocking his hips into the hand that touched him. He let his hands wander down Loki's body as they continued to kiss, outlining his ribs and hips, grabbing the back of his thigh and tugging him closer.

"Come here."

Loki let himself be pulled and fit himself between Clint's legs, grinding together and kissing still, messy and wet. After a hand disappeared under the covers between Clint's legs, Clint sighed harshly and broke the kiss, gripping Loki's shoulders tight. He let Loki come down over him again, licking and nibbling at his neck, pulling the glowing earring between his teeth.

"I didn't even see you get the lube- how'd you-"

Loki chuckled in his ear and made a jerking movement with his arm, making Clint groan behind his teeth, eyes shutting immediately.

"Jesus- is it magic?" Clint half chuckled behind his groan. "You just… magicked up some lube. Is everything going to be like that?"

"Most of it," Loki muttered. "Now shut your mouth."

Clint took a breath to speak again and a flash of blue lit up his eyes for a second before his mouth snapped shut. He squinted at Loki in irritation even as he moaned low in his throat. He pulled Loki to kiss once more, huffing softly into his mouth and pulling Loki's body against his, making Loki's hips slide into his.

In another moment, Loki adjusted himself lower, lifting Clint's legs around him and settling himself into position, pushing slowly with his hips. Clint's hands flew up to grip the entwining vines of the headboard, eyes squeezed shut and biting his lip, groaning as Loki pushed further, holding Clint's thigh as leverage. When he had gone as far as he could, pressing against Clint completely, Loki leaned over him and wrapped Clint's legs around his waist and gave a tentative thrust that made Clint's eyes pop open. Loki continued to push, slow and gentle, eyes closed and head hanging down as he panted lightly with every thrust. His arms were tense and straight at Clint's sides, almost shaking, and Clint slid his hands down Loki's chest, watching with concern.

"Hey, you okay?"

Loki huffed and chuckled, keeping up his gentle presses into him, shaking his head at himself and smiling. "You are, heh- very hot inside. I'm trying to concentrate so I don't finish too quickly."

"Got all night, Boss- we can go as many times as you want."

Loki hummed and laid down on him, pulling Clint's legs higher up his sides. Clint let his head fall back on the pillow and moan as Loki pushed and pulled back in a slow rhythm, twisting his grip on the headboard when Loki nipped at the base of his neck, dampening the skin with his heavy breath. He began to move with a little more purpose, quicker and longer, and he panted into the crook of Clint's neck while Clint's hands moved to rove his back, grabbing at his muscle and pulling him harder into him. It was still a gentle affair, the air stifling around them and under the furs as they moved and panted, legs tangling together and sliding in sweat. Clint groaned and held on tight to anything of Loki's body he could, coercing more out of him. And Loki allowed himself to be led, barely able to hold himself up, panting and eyes closed, thrusting gently into his subordinate even as Clint asked for more. He slowed and touched Clint's face, rubbing a thumb along the corner of his mouth and attracting Clint's attention to him.

"I'm going to force you to come," he panted, and when Clint's brows began to furrow in question, he overrode him. "I'm already close- you will squeeze around me as hard as you are able-" he thrust into Clint again with a little more vigor and huffed to catch his breath, "-and I'm going to come inside you."

Clint was already squeezing his legs around Loki's waist and staring hard at Loki in blank confusion, trying not to give in to the thrusts. He jerked his head in a half-shake. "What?"

But Loki left no room for explanation, groaning out his command as he moved and Clint's eyes suddenly lit up in a glow of bright blue, forcing his eyes wide open and his body tensed every muscle. His jaw dropped with a long guttural moan and he gripped the headboard tight again, squeezing his eyes shut and panting heavily as he moved himself back onto Loki's hips over and over in a near frenzy. Loki growled and pushed into him with the same force, holding his hips against him hard and pushing further as Clint started to curse and wriggle in his grip. He held him still by lying on top of him, arms going under his shoulders to pull him down hard and keep him there, open-mouthed and panting while Clint's jerking movements slowed, hissing through his teeth as his body caught up with the rest of him.

He let his legs drop open and groaned in tired relief, letting Loki lie limp on top of him, both of them catching their breath. His hands dropped from the headboard and he closed his eyes.

"Don't do that again; it almost hurt."

Loki snorted against Clint's chest and sat up, waving a hand in the air to materialize his pack of cigarettes from the entry table, and a lighter. Clint watched him sit between his legs and light up his smoke, and held out his hand for one. Loki smirked and obliged, fishing one out from the package.

"Yeah I think you owe me one of fancy-pants smokes after that shit." He took the offered cigarette and lighter, inhaling deep and holding, his eyes sliding closed as he finally released his breath with a smile.

Loki snickered at him and moved to lie on the bed beside him, staring up at the bowled ceiling with their twirling trails of smoke leading to the top. "It's one of the best orgasms you'll ever have," he said, grabbing an ashtray from the nightstand and setting it on his belly. Clint tapped his barely begun ashes into it. "Your body is completely unprepared, loose and trying to build up, and when I command it to happen your body and mind is caught by surprise and you can do nothing but feel it surge through you completely. It's nearly painful because you don't expect it, and powerful because I force it."

Clint nodded sagely and dragged on his cigarette, one hand absently trailing down his abdomen through the shoots of semen to give his groin a gentle tug. He hummed and Loki chuckled. "Is it magic that I feel like I'm about ready to go again?"

"No."

"Shit," he groaned and snickered, sitting up to tap ashes into the tray over Loki again. He eyed Loki's skin up his belly and chest, over the curve of his collar and neck to his jaw, and finally to the pale green eyes that stared up at the ceiling.

Loki glanced at him and tossed his own ashes into the tray, bringing the cigarette to his lips again. "I'm not your lover," he stated coldly.

"I wasn't thinking you were. I was thinking this is gonna be the best job I've ever had if I get to fuck the boss whenever he's in the mood. Sex _and_ killing? Well-" Clint chuckled and puffed his smoke again. "I'm your huckleberry."

Loki smirked. "You're going to ride me when you're ready again."

All smiles, Clint blew smoke out of his nose in a huff of a chuckle. "Yessir."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, the new stuff, so it may not be the same level of writing as the first chapter, but that's just how it is.

Clint’s eyes popped open and he gasped shortly, hand already reaching under the pillow for a weapon that wasn’t there. He lay on his belly n the bed and let his heart calm to a normal beat while he came to his senses after the fog of sleep and the ghost-touch of animal fur against the back of his shoulders reminded him where he was. He sighed in relief and sat up, rubbing the crust out of his eyes. The rush of water he hadn’t known he was hearing was suddenly silenced, and a lit doorway along the curve of the wall allowed a hum of voice out.

“Yes, the throne is vacant.”

Loki’s voice. Clint concentrated on the doorway, now a faint shadow moving along the open door, and listened.

“I wouldn’t advise that,” Loki continued to say, appearing from the depths of the room and stopping to turn the light off behind him. “Because the people would revolt- you would start the next religious war.” He glanced at Clint for only a moment before heading away, down the few steps to the sunken living room. A small Bluetooth earpiece blinked softly against the side of his face. He sat in his office chair and swung his legs up to rest his feet on the desk, crossed at the ankles, and he picked absently at his lounge pants. “Then by all means deport my father,” he scoffed patronizingly. “Let me know how that works out for you.” And he tapped the earpiece off and tossed it onto the desk. His sneer took a moment to disappear while he picked up his cellphone and swiped through it.

“What was that about?” Clint inquired from the bed.

“It’s none of your concern,” he replied casually. “Unless I need you to assassinate the President.”

“Huh. Big stuff then.”

“Get dressed- I have work to do.”

Not one to be told when he was being dismissed, Clint rose and stretched, groaning. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“If you must.”

Loki continued to flip through his phone, deleting emails- and for some sending a disinterested generic response. Clint ambled into the room Loki had come out of, turning the light on and whistling impressed as the dark wood floors and walls were illuminated. Lush large-leaved plants crowded it all like a jungle. Loki sighed in annoyance at the appearance of a group message and replied curtly, soft clicks against the far-off backdrop of Clint’s urinating. Coming back into view, Clint washed his hands and face at the stone and wood vanity. Loki’s eyes slid away from his phone and up the back of Clint’s body. He stared hard for a moment, seeming lost in his thoughts, until he simply turned his attention back to the messages, tapping out another reply. Clint finished and turned out the light, stepping out and down the bedroom steps to the living room. He found his clothes just where he left them the night before on the floor and he dressed.

“So what now?” he asked, pulling his shirt over his head.

Loki cleared his throat and let his feet fall from the desk. “Now you’ll be given a new home at a secure location for others who voluntarily work for the Family and myself.”

Clint’s brushing of his hair with his fingers slowed hesitantly. “Voluntarily. As opposed to—“

“That’s none of your concern unless you decide not to hold up your end of the contract. Now— you may bring any personal effects or belongings from you place of residence, but you won’t be able to go there yourself because of your situation. You will give your address to-“ A sharp few knocks at the door cut Loki off, but he did not seem irritated, he only rose to cross the living room for it. “You will give the address to Sigourney.” He opened the door to reveal a woman in a sharply cut suit, her black hair just as sleep and jagged, cropped below the jaw. The expression on her lined eyes and dark grey lips was stern and daring. “This is Sigourney. And a list of everything you need from there. She will take care of the details and have it brought to your new apartment, but the faster you want your things, the faster you will write the list.”

Clint bobbed his head in casual agreement. “Hey,” he greeted.

“She will take you to your new apartment now.”

“Is this goodbye, Boss?” Clint smirked as he approached the doorway. Sigourney stepped aside to allow him out.

“For now.” And Loki shut the door after him.

Sigourney wasted no time, instantly walking away down the long hall with purpose. “Let’s go,” she commanded, and Clint followed.

In the elevator and through the lobby, now populated with a few patrons wandering the floor, the two stayed silent, just making it from point A to B. From the busy streets, a car pulled up to the curb and the doorman opened the passenger door for Sigourney. Clint received no such treatment, and let himself into the back seat, the deafening roar of the busy city muffled once inside.

The car was full: Sigourney in the front passenger sea, a blond pony-tailed man driving, and a bulk of a man beside Clint in the back- red, unruly beard and hair and glittering green eyeliner. He eyed Clint from the ceiling of the car and gave him a friendly wink.

The driver pulled out into the busy street, keeping a glancing eye on the rearview mirror at Clint. “Who the fuck is this clown?”

Clint’s eyebrows shot up, but Sigourney beat him to an explanation as she looked down at her phone.

“Someone the Boss hired personally, so I’d watch my mouth. This here is Clint Barton.”

“Hawkeye?” the enormous man blurted in awe.

“That’s what they call me.”

The man grinned from ear to ear, cheeks going pink. He thrust out a large hand for Clint to shake in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir— I’m a big admirer.”

“Thanks man.”

“That’s Sammy,” Sigourney supplied. “This is Luke.”

“Lucas to you, dick.”

“Cool it, Luke.” The lady reached back towards Clint with a cellphone in hand and he took it from her. “This is your new phone- toss your other one or disable it and hide it, but this is the only one you may use now.” She flipped her sun visor down and used the mirror to see Clint. “Put whatever numbers you want into it only if you’re sure they’re safe and secure. Our numbers and other useful ones are already there. If you need anything, have questions- you contact me.”

“Cool. Loki’s number in here?”

Sigourney’s eyes tightened through the tiny mirror at the question. “It isn’t.”

“Okay.”

From the center console she pulled out a small tablet and searched through it. “Your new apartment is furnished with the very basics, so I need that list of belongings from you as soon as possible. Any questions yet?”

“A million, but I’ll just learn as I go. What am I not allowed to do?”

“Tell no one who you work for- that should be a given. Only the people who come to you with information know. This apartment complex is the only safe place as everyone who lives there works for the Family.”

Clint watched through the dark tinted windows as they drove out of the city to the suburbs. Neat and clean little houses, small pine forests, and rows and rows of strip mall shops and restaurants.

“You will work alone or exclusively with us, as Loki assigned you to us specifically.”

Sammy leaned his beefy body towards Clint and stage whispered, “We’re the dream team.”

“That so?” Clint couldn’t not chuckle every time he looked at his glittering eyeliner.

The car came to a stop.

“We’re here.”

Clint looked out at the four story building they had pulled up next to and then back at Sammy and extended his hand first, which Sammy grasped with happiness written all over his bearded face.

“Good to meet you, Sammy.”

“You as well, Mister Barton.”

“Call me Clint, man. And Lucas…” Clint broke off, thought about it, and then hummed, leaving it at that while being stared down by Luke’s hateful glare. He got out of the car. He looked up at the building and it’s surrounding duplicates when Sigourney rolled down her window.

“Here’s the keys. Building J, number one-eleven.”

Clint took the ring of three keys from her outstretched hand. They were colored black, silver, and gold.

“A word of caution about your neighbor from one-twelve— do not let him into your apartment. No invitation, nothing, under any circumstances.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’ll find out. Welcome to Livingwood, Clint. We’ll see you again.” Her window rolled up as the car pulled away, leaving Clint on the sidewalk alone. Down the street began some of the shops, a few people walked to and fro.

Clint turned to the apartment building which on the ground floor a plaque read ‘office’. The buildings on both sides of the main office were connected by tall black security fences and matching gates. He took one step towards the office, stopped short and clicked his tongue, swiveling instead for the gate. Automatically getting the black key ready on a guess, he fit the key in the gate’s lock and let himself through. Before him was a small stone walkway leading between the buildings to an empty playground of slides, swings, and monkey bars in the center of it all. Walking to the end of the alley and stepping into the sun pulled him through a thin veil of a bubble-like rainbow, clinging to him as he pulled away from it and rubber-banding back into place. Clint stared back at it and its oil-slick transparency, going to put a finger in it just as a squeal of fright startled him into whipping around to the playground.

A lady in black culottes and a lace shawl stood with her back to him, leaning to hold something in front of her. Clint could barely hear her talking.

“Going to try it again okay? One more time, and then we can take a break.”

A little girl unseen by Clint spoke meekly. “Okay…”

“Ready? Concentrate…” The woman took a step back. “Go!”

For a moment, there was silence, and nothing happened, until the lady jumped excitedly in place.

“Keep going- you’re doing it!”

And then the little girl appeared, slowly floating up in midair just above the woman’s head, with a broomstick between her skirted legs. Clint stood staring even as the girl and her broom rose higher and higher steadily, the mother clapping and encouraging more. She pointed up at her and looked to the people who stood or sat watching from their balconies,

“Look at my girl! Riding her first broom like a raven takes to the sky!”

The people whooped and hollered enthusiastically in response. The girl in the air smiled sheepishly and began to slowly swivel in circles, with Clint watching and his eyebrows bunching together. Another woman came up from behind him, pushing through the sheet of bubble material and coming to his side. She looked up at the girl with a smile and shielded her eyes from the sun.

“Finally flying,” she said with satisfaction. Clint jumped at her appearance. “She’s been practicing for days.”

Clint stammered quietly as he got his thoughts together. “She’s uh… flying on a broom.”

“First time seeing a witch then? You’ll get used to it. You’re-“ she glanced at a scrap of paper she held, “Clint Barton, right?”

“Yeah,” Clint breathed, still staring at the girl in the sky who was then flying faster in broader circles around the grounds. Her mother turned and watched her with a gleaming grin.

“I’m Rocio, I run the front office during the day. I’m going to show you to your apartment, and if you want, around the grounds too. It’s all right here in the center, pretty self-explanatory, but if you want, I can. Ready?”

Clint struggled to pull his eyes away from the girl, but he shook his head as he finally did and apologized to Rocio, offering his hand to shake.

“It’s all right, you’ll eventually get used to it. I was the same way. There’s still a lot of stuff I’ve never seen. Come on, I’ll take you up.”

She started down the stone path leading from the gates and in a circle around the grounds. Clint stepped up beside her. She started listing essential information like trash pick-up and laundry facilities, pointing out the swimming pool and indoor gym along the way. Every building was marked with a large letter, making finding Clint’s that much easier. They took the stairs along the center up to the top floor, finding apartment 111 easily enough.

“Well, this is you,” Rocio declared with a smile. “You already have the keys, but this card will get you into the gym when you need it. And you even have a great view!”

She rested her hands on the railing of the wide walkway that doubled as balcony space for the residents- lawn chairs and tiny tables dotted all along the buildings. From the top floor the entire grounds could be seen. Rocio sighed happily in the sunshine and then turned back to Clint.

“Well, make yourself at home! We’ll see you around.”

“Okay. Thanks.” He watched her stroll away down the walkway. He looked once more at the mother-daughter pair, the girl back on the ground and being smothered in a hug from her mother. He blew out a big breath and turned to his door, unlocking it with the gold key and pushing the door open to reveal his small apartment. A studio floor with a TV and futon, microwave, fridge, and stove. And it was immaculately clean, even in the minuscule bathroom of a stall shower and toilet.

Clint called it the end of his day, and shut the front door. He settled into the futon and watched TV the rest of the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> So the sex was not descriptive in terms of sexual body parts, because with a movie camera kind of POV, whatever's happening under the covers is implied, up to your imagination because you can't actually see it. So that's what I went for. Strange to describe sex and orgasm with only noise and movement but I'm happy with the outcome. It was a tough write but I feel more learned after it.  
> What did you think? Did the sexy get through or was there just not enough?
> 
> For the continuing story- I have no idea where we're going. It's going to be fun for me, maybe for you, and we'll just see where we get to.


End file.
